Operation Encounter
by Laura16
Summary: Elevators, chocolate and baseball. A sure fire combination to win a girls heart!


Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs. King and characters are the property of Warner Brothers and Shoot The Moon Productions. I just like to take the kiddies out for a run around the playground every now and again. I have not profited from this story in any manner. The story premise is my own.

A little tribute for my fav SMK character for the anniversary of his first episode, October 14, 1985, Tail Of The Dancing Weasel.

I've used the spelling for Efraim's name that was actually in the scripts—Effrom. Thanks go to the writers for this character I adore.

And it wouldn't be a tribute for this character if he didn't get a chance to win the object of his desire, now would it?

**Operation Encounter**

The computer screen came to life, the enter password screen popped up. With quick fingers, the encrypted and lengthy password was entered and the screen blinked, the desktop now showing. Clicking on one of the files, another password screen arose, another long sequence entered before the file opened, revealing the contents under the title of Operation Encounter.

Effrom Beaman sat back in his chair with a sly smile. Pushing his glasses back up his nose, he leaned forward and read the data found there. Haunts, habits, favorite foods, favorite flowers, favorite drink. Where she shopped, where she exercised; (he had certainly enjoyed that surveillance!) friends. Friends, not many. That had surprised him. Francine was much more the loner than she let on. The few dates he had observed had been dinner and then nothing.

He told himself she was selective. What he really thought was that she was lonely. Lonely and afraid of being hurt again.

He understood that more than anyone would ever know.

What he did know was this: It was time for Operation Encounter to be put into action.

Oh, he told himself that his horoscope said the time was now to sweep that certain someone off their feet (he had read it twice to make sure he was the one sweeping and not being swept for Francine was capable of literally knocking him off his feet!). The planets were aligned, comet threat minimal, stars shining, moon phase checked, tides ebbing and flowing, air currents and wind speed all at optimal levels. What it really came down to was he was going to engineer his chance. His last chance, the little voice in his head told him. He nodded with a wry grimace at that, Last Chance Beaman, that was him.

The only glitch, that little voice reminded him, was how.

How did he casually bump into her at Harry's Market in Georgetown? Or Le Chat Noir? French restaurants made him nervous--those damn pretentious waiters. That was out.

So was her gym; he could hear her now! She would accuse him of being lecherous and ogling the women there. Ha! No one else interested him. His lechery was limited to one woman, Francine Desmond.

He sighed. The big plan had sounded good when he had cooked it up. It had given his ego a big shot when he found that he was really good at tailing her. He had followed Francine around for months observing her and she had never known he was there.

An involuntary chill raced up his spine. He didn't want to think about what she would do to him if she ever found out.

Taking his glasses off, he sat back and rubbed his eyes. Great plan, he told himself. All this information and not a damn thing he could do about it. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned. With a turn of his wrist, he glanced at his watch. "Damn!" He jumped up, grabbed his glasses and ran—he was late for the 2 pm briefing.

At the door, he stopped and hurried back to his computer and quickly secured the document he had been reading. A shake of his head as he gave a self deriding chuckle; it would not have done for anyone other than him to see that list.

He hurried to the conference room and slipped in as Billy was going over the afternoons rush list. Feeling himself redden under the annoyed glance his boss sent his way, he slipped lower into the chair as he picked up the report and quickly scanned the contents. As he tossed it back on the table he saw Francine slink into the room.

Billy stopped mid sentence. "Why thank you Ms Desmond, for gracing us with your presence this afternoon," he waited for her to sit down before continuing.

The only open seat was next to him and as Francine sat down, he pushed the report in front of her and watched as her hand came up and picked it up. He heard her soft sigh as she matched his pose in the chair.

Letting Billy's words wash over him, he enjoyed the novelty of sitting next to the object of his obsession without having had to go out of his way to finagle the closeness. He let his mind wander until it dawned on him that Billy had spoken to him.

Damn, he hadn't been paying attention. Billy took pity on him as he let the other shoe drop. He and Francine, as the day's prize winners for their late arrival to briefing were to go and interview the staff at the hotel where the next multi-national summit was to take place.

He sat in a daze as the meeting broke up. He was going out into the field with Francine. In a car. In an elevator, he hoped it would be packed. Any excuse to be close to her.

At her sharp, 'Are you coming?' he jumped up, giving Billy a nod as he followed Francine from the conference room. Even her continual threats and stream of remarks didn't faze him. He was working with Francine; he could take all the guff she had to give. And more!

He did have to admit that the apologetic and sympathetic looks he was getting from his fellow agents did give him a temporary moment of unwelcome reflection. Francine was ranting as she threw report forms and files into her briefcase before tossing it at him. He caught it and waved his arm for her to precede him from the office.

She stormed out ahead of him, hair bouncing, hips swaying. He grinned and caught the "Good luck!" Scarecrow tossed his way. He'd need it.

Her car was blocked, which she seemed to blame him for. He held open the door to his car with pride, catching the surprised look on her face. Gone was the Buick and in it's place a sleek BMW 518. So it wasn't a sports car, but it was classy and comfortable and imported.

Placing his own briefcase on the floor behind him, he climbed in and started the engine. Giving Francine a nod, he pulled out and headed toward their destination.

"I'll handle the interview. You observe," she told him. "Stay out of my way and remember, I'm the ranking agent."

"Absolutely," he enjoyed the thoughtful glance she sent his way after he agreed to her statements without additional comment. Good he thought to himself, let her think on that. Tactics would come in handy he noted, and he needed any tactical advantage he could get with Francine.

Luck was with him, the elevator was packed. He enjoyed the ride to the 60th floor with Francine's body pressed to his side. He kept his eyes straight ahead and his face impassive: it wouldn't do him any good to hand her a reason to blow up at him.

Good to his promise, he had let Francine take the lead in the interview. At one particular pause in the conversation, he had asked a salient question earning a nod of approval and small smile from the object of his desire. He had felt light headed, giddy with glee in fact!

At Francine's incline of her head, he followed her down the hall to the bank of elevators. The stars had been right; it was his time to make his move! Those aligned planets and easterly winds had afforded him the opportunity to watch her walk down the hall _and_ lift his eyes away from her swaying assets when she suddenly turned. Catching up with her, he pushed the call button and casually observed their reflection in the polished panels.

The doors opened and he stepped back to let the occupants exit the elevator. Francine preceded him into the car, putting her back against the far wall leaving him to push the floor button and take the opposite wall away from her.

Maybe the planets had shifted; the elevator car was empty. He wasn't sure if it was physically possible, but the silence between them echoed in the space. Just as he was about to say something to fill the void, the lights blinked and the car came to an abrupt stop mid descent. The sudden jerk threw Francine forward; she would have hit the opposite wall of the elevator if he hadn't grabbed her and pulled her up against his chest.

"Are you all right?" At her nod, he set her back on her feet at arms length from him.

"What happened? Is this temporary? Are we safe in here?"

He could hear the tiniest thread of fear in her voice. With all that he had discovered about her, he hadn't known that claustrophobia was something she suffered.

Pulling open the panel that housed the emergency telephone, he lifted the receiver from the cradle. He held the phone away from his ear as it rang, the sound reverberating in the elevator. Anyone who had been in the security offices were probably out checking things out he explained.

Putting the phone back, he crouched down and opened his briefcase. Thumbing through the papers, he flashed a grin over his shoulder as he found the object of his search. Pulling a small self-contained telephone out of a metal box, he stood and explained that it was a new microwave portable telephone the military had been testing.

"I'm not interested in what it is, all I care about is will someone come and help us if you use it?"

So he opened the case, pulled out the telephone and dialed the Agency. After giving the word of the day, he was transferred to Billy's office. "Billy, Beaman here. Ah, Francine and I are stuck in an elevator at the K Street location. What's going on and can you send someone to get us out of here?" he hoped Francine couldn't hear the shouts of laughter from their boss. Billy told him there was a city-wide blackout and to sit tight. His final words of 'be careful in there' and his laughter had him shutting the phone with more force than was needed.

Looking at Francine, he shrugged apologetically. She nodded; she had heard their boss's mirth. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she leaned against the back of the elevator and stared at the wall.

He moved to the back of the elevator and sat down; his long legs stretched out in front of him, his arms folded over his chest. He let his head drop back against the wall and he closed his eyes as he thought about the situation he found himself in. He would have laughed had he been alone, but explaining his mirth to Francine wasn't high on his list of things to do. Looking at his watch, he found they had only been stuck seven minutes; in the silence that yawned between them, it felt like hours.

"Francine, why don't you sit down? We may be here awhile and we might as well try to be as comfortable as possible."

"I bet you'd like that!" she snapped back at him, wedging herself securely in the corner of the elevator.

He sighed; her defenses made it impossible. In that instant he realized that he would never bridge the chasm between them. "Then just stand there, right now I don't give a damn what you do."

Clarity hit him like waves on the shore; he would never sweep her off her feet. They would never be friends and certainly never anything more than distant co-workers. He mentally laughed at what he had once thought could happen between them; she couldn't tolerate being in an elevator with him and that did limit the possibilities of all he had dreamed up featuring them as the star of his fantasies.

"Why aren't they coming to get us?" Francine walked opposite him in the car and leaned on the elevator doors. "How long have we been here?"

He shook his head at her, "Don't lean on the doors, if the electricity comes back on they could open." He hid a small grin as she quickly slid over and away from the doors. "As long as we're safe, we're at the bottom of the list. You know that, Francine."

She nodded, biting her bottom lip. He could see the beginnings of panic in her eyes. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "You know, right about now I'd be popping open a beer and catching the ballgame. The Yankees are in Baltimore, are you a fan Francine?" He knew she was; he had listened to her talk baseball and trash with the guys for years. It was, coincidentally, something they had in common.

She nodded quickly. He knew if he didn't divert her attention she'd panic being trapped in the enclosed space.

"Did you hear if they changed the rotation for the game? With the Yank's bats as hot as they've been, it might not be a bad idea to switch up the mix. What do you think?"

With narrowed eyes she studied him for a moment before answering. "I'm fine. You don't have to make conversation with me to divert my attention. I'm not going to forget that I'm trapped in this elevator with you and I'm not … I'm fine."

He nodded. "Good, glad to hear that Francine, but that's not what I asked you. I asked your opinion about the ballgame tonight. If you don't have one to give, that's not a problem." The challenge he tossed to her was something she couldn't resist and he knew it. As casually as he could, he watched the thoughts as they raced across her face. The competitor warred with her rising panic; the competitor won.

"Martin has Johns starting, but Robinson will go with Ballard."

He nodded his agreement. "Yeah, but I wouldn't mind seeing us take this series. But we've played appallingly against the Yanks this year." They talked about baseball, discussing stats and players the way only fans of teams not heading to the playoffs could: the prospects for the next season. He told her about his favorite sports bar, telling her how he had tended bar during college to earn extra cash.

She laughed. "Somehow I don't see you pouring drinks, Effrom."

He laughed too, knowing she was referring to his legendary Christmas party binges. "I said I poured the drinks, I don't drink behind the bar. Big difference, but I did learn a lot about baseball and football there and I still go to the bar to watch the _big_ games." He glanced at his watch and sighed; they had been stuck just a little over an hour.

"Do you think it's going to be much longer?" she asked him.

Effrom shrugged, "It's hard to say, Billy did say it was area wide," he grinned at her, "what's your recommendation for this site going to be?" He knew the answer, but hearing her scathing condemnation would amuse him.

She didn't disappoint him. With an eye roll, she let loose on the facility. She had him laughing and it dawned on him, the more he laughed, the harder she tried to make him do so.

His stomach grumbled and he raised his eyebrows at Francine. "Hungry? Can't offer you much of a dinner," he pulled his briefcase on his lap, flipped the locks and looked through the files and papers he had in there. "Ah, here we go. I can offer a Snickers bar and pretzels, wanna share?"

"I have M&M's and a bottle of water," she offered in a conspiratorial tone. "Sounds like a feast to me!" She came over and leaned on the wall next to him. He stood up and took her hands to help her sit and then sat back down beside her. He pulled the contents of his briefcase out, leaving the bottom of the case empty to hold their 'dinner'.

Pulling out his pocket knife, he cut the candy bar in half, pushing Francine's portion to one side of the briefcase.

She took the knife from him and cut her portion into slices, then blushed when she caught the curious look on his face. "It makes it look like more this way," she offered in way of explanation. Her hair swung forward, shielding her face from his scrutiny and he grinned as he took the knife and cut his half of the candy bar to match hers.

Francine opened the water and placed it between them and popped a piece of candy in her mouth. Sighing, she opened the M&M's and poured them in the briefcase and divided them between them.

Effrom followed suit with the pretzels and leaned back, chewing a few pretzels and thinking about what he was doing. He must have made some comment out loud because Francine looked at him questioningly.

"What?" he asked her.

"I thought you said something."

"I was just thinking that when today started, this was the last thing I thought I would be doing; sharing a dinner of chocolate and pretzels with you in an elevator during a black out."

"Me either. But any excuse to eat chocolate is good… relatively." She poured a few M&M's in her mouth and grinned around them.

He nodded. It_ was_ good. He took a drink of the water when she handed the bottle to him and set it down.

The lights flickered and he grabbed the water to keep it from spilling in his briefcase. He handed it to Francine who put the cap back on and tucked it away. They both finished the M&M's with a handful and waited; neither wanting to stand and be jerked around or tossed off their feet when the elevator re-started its descent.

With a few false starts and some very hard stops, the elevator began to move, finally coming to a soft stop on the first floor. Effrom looked over at Francine and smiled. "Well…" he trailed off.

"Well, looks like we get to go home tonight."

He climbed up and put his hands down to Francine who took them and smiled at him. He helped her to her feet as the doors finally opened.

"Good to see the two of you survived," Billy Melrose stated from the lobby.

Lee Stetson leaned around the corner and grinned, "Any blood spilled?"

Francine rolled her eyes, "Really Lee, it was just a little power outage, but I can tell you that this place has failed its security evaluation big time." She stepped out of the elevator and turned back. "You coming, Effrom?"

"Right behind you," he answered, grabbing his own briefcase and following the blonde as she headed toward the parking garage. He turned and gave his boss and Lee Stetson an exaggerated shrug then hurried to catch up to Francine.

SMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMKSMK

Effrom found a parking space a block away from the bar in Baltimore. Locking the car, he stuffed his keys into the front pocket of his jeans. He thought about the day and how it had ended.

Arriving back at the Agency, both he and Francine filed a quick incident report and left for their prospective offices. Effrom had turned on his laptop and deleted Operation Encounter. With a sigh, he had left and headed for home only to get there and find he didn't want to sit home alone and watch the ballgame.

Opening the door to the bar, he walked in and found the crowd moaning as the Yankees tagged out Cal Ripken Jr. He made his way to the bar and grinned when the bartender saw him and told him to get his butt behind the bar and help him draw some beer.

He had just put several pints of beer down when a feminine hand slapped the bar. He looked up to find Francine smiling at him. "What are you doing here?" he asked as he held up an empty glass in question to her and when she nodded, he pulled the beer and put it down in front of her, leaning on the bar.

"I didn't want to stay home alone tonight," she told him as she looked around the room. "And I remembered you talking about this place and thought it sounded…fun."

"So here you are."

"Here I am. You too I see."

He nodded and went to fill a few orders before turning back to her.

"How did you end up back there?"

Taking cash from some fans that hit the bar, he drew their brews and came back to Francine. "I walked in. It seems they have trouble remembering that I don't work here anymore."

"It seems to me that you don't remember you're no longer employed here either."

He laughed. "You're probably right. You gonna stay and watch the rest of the game?"

She looked around the bar and nodded, "Yeah, I think I am. Do you think its safe here for a girl all on her own?"

"Yeah, just tell them you're here with me; they'll leave you alone."

"Oh, you're a big man around here, are you?" she teased.

"That I am. I've put a few of these bums on their backsides more than once when they've gotten out of line."

She smiled and raised her beer in salute, turning on the stool to watch the game. Effrom went back to tending his side of the bar, occasionally telling one of the denizens to push off and leave Francine alone. He took some good natured ribbing from the patrons as did Francine, both smiling and laughing at comments and some of the more outrageous offers made to Francine to leave the bar and sit with the real fans.

The game ended with the Orioles losing to New York. The bar quickly emptied with only a few patrons, the locals, staying to trash talk the Yankees. Effrom watched Francine who was in the thick of it, he would stop now and again to add a comment; mostly to hear what Francine was saying, to be near her.

The old timers were leaving, saying their good nights to those who remained. "Hey Franny, you coming back with that tenderfoot tomorrow? You sit here with us, you don't need Beaman there to protect you; we'll take good care of you!" They all laughed when Effrom came out from behind the bar to push them out the door. "See how he is guys? Brings a classy lady and he gets all protective and 86's us from our bar."

"Yeah, yeah, go home to your wives and leave the lady alone." he told them as he watched them walk down the street to their homes. Shaking his head, he turned back to Francine and shrugged, "I'm sorry about that Francine, they didn't know we weren't together."

She smiled and patted his arm. "It's okay; I didn't mind having a local celebrity as my escort for the evening. I felt quite privileged." She leaned by the door as Effrom grabbed his jacket, stuffed the tips he had been given in the tip jar for the others to share and said goodnight to his friends, enduring a few off color remarks about his bar tending abilities among other things.

He took her elbow as they left the bar and walked down the street to where she had parked her car. He leaned against the hood as she unlocked the door, opened it and rested her arms on the top of the door, her chin on her hands.

"So, what time are you picking me up tomorrow night? We wouldn't want to disappoint your fans, would we?" She smiled at him, grinning widely at his surprised look.

"Francine, you don't have to do that. They probably won't even remember I was here tonight."

"Are you saying I'm unforgettable?"

He laughed, "Yeah, you_ are_ unforgettable. Me on the other hand…"

She reached out and laid her hand on his chest. "No," she said, "I thought about you all evening. So, is it a date?"

Effrom stared at her for a minute before answering. "It is; it's a date Francine. Leave work a little early to beat the traffic?"

Francine grinned. "Perfect. Follow me back to the District?"

"I will. Goodnight Francine. I had a good time tonight."

She nodded as she climbed in her car. Effrom closed the door and she rolled the window down. "Me too, I had a really good time with you. See you tomorrow."

He nodded and stepped back, giving her a slight wave as he climbed in his car. He followed Francine back to DC, flashing his lights as she pulled into her apartment complex. He had thought about the day as he followed Francine home and wondered what the hell had happened to turn everything on its ear.

He had had a good time that night. If someone had told him first thing that morning that he'd spend the late afternoon trapped in an elevator with Francine Desmond, share chocolate, pretzels and later have her show up at a sports bar where he was pressed to tend bar; he would have laughed. And he would have had the person telling him such a cockamamie story committed. He never would have believed it; that much was certain.

And yet it had happened; he had a date tomorrow night with Francine. No French restaurants, no fancy gourmet shops, no health clubs, just a ballgame. He climbed in bed and as he turned off the light he chuckled at a thought he had.

Humphrey Bogart had once said "A hot dog at the ballgame beats roast beef at the Ritz."

Forget horoscopes, Effrom told himself. _Note to self,_ _buy Bogart's biography_!


End file.
